


scenes revisited

by Dandybear



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora comma Freak, BDSM Scene, Catra comma Freak, Clothed Sex, Consent, F/F, Fluffy Ending, Impact Play, PWP, Rough Sex, They fuck the sword, local young adults use bondage fantasies to work through Their Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24429433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandybear/pseuds/Dandybear
Summary: The lads take some time to revisit some old fights but with different (read: gone sexual) outcomes.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 305





	scenes revisited

**Author's Note:**

> [looks at my list of WIPs] I'm blind, I can't read suddenly.
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> So how about that canon Catradora, eh?
> 
> Warnings: this might be icky for folks who are consent-sensitive, but there's a great deal of breaking character to check in with each other, so it should be okay? As far as violence goes, it doesn't exceed anything that happens in the show. 
> 
> (All mistakes are either me or my phone's autocorrect not understanding things like "context" and "pluralization". It's unbeta'd and written late at night over the course of a week.)

Her gauntlets provide a barrier between her wrists and the manacles. Horde issue. The sixth generation kind with the electric lock. The lock that shorts out when a strong enough volt is placed between the two circuits at the hinge.

The seventh generation--improved by Entrapta, doesn’t have this flaw. But, you work with what you’ve got, and this is probably the safer alternative for what they’re doing.

There’s a pleasant sting pulling on her shoulders and arms. Her knees hurt from the metal plating of the floor.

The air is cool and dry, but even in the corpse of a fortress like this, life spills in through the hole in the ceiling. Climbing vines of ivy and grape, and those ever-present glowing motes of dust.

Again, beggars not being choosers.

“Aw, did I keep you waiting?” a voice purrs behind She-Ra.

She-Ra’s breath hitches, feeling something thin and sharp pricking her shoulders. She steadies herself, shifting her weight on her knees.

“I’m talking to you,” Catra snarls, aiming a kick at She-Ra’s lower back. She takes the blow, and the winding that comes with it.

“Kind of a rhetorical question,” She-Ra spits.

Catra comes into view, looking bigger with the improvised Horde armor, but still dwarfed by She-Ra’s blade. She smirks, lowering herself (barely) to grab She-Ra’s jaw between two fingers.

“Comfy?” she asks.

She-Ra shifts in her discomfort. Her eyes get stuck on the cutout of cleavage more level with her face. Catra catches her looking and laughs, “So weak. Even your body betrays you, huh, Adora?”

“Dunno, Catra, your insults seem to lack their usual bite. You holding back on me?” She-Ra smirks.

They lock eyes for a moment, processing the next step of the game. Catra takes a deep breath and places a steadying hand on She-Ra’s shoulder, smoothing the fabric with her thumb as she closes her eyes, then--

Then the claws sink into She-Ra’s flesh and she gasps.

“Your little plan failed. You failed. And none of your stupid little friends are coming to save you, Adora,” there’s real rage behind Catra’s shaking eyes.

It hurts. The claws hurt, and the panic of failure hurts. She-Ra’s wrists tense against the manacles. She can take it. She can bear it.

“They’re never coming. Which means I have you all to myself to do with--use, as I please,” Catra’s voice dips in that old flirtation. The frustrated kind. Her nails trace She-Ra’s chin, barely pricking the skin but getting Adora’s attention. She leans into the touch, feeling the caress of Catra’s claws on old scar tissue. She looks up into those mismatched eyes, trying to look defiant and not desperate.

“What should I start with?” Catra asks.

She stands, pulling away from She-Ra, who would collapse forward if not for being bound in place.

“Catra!” her voice shakes.

Catra swings the sword experimentally, devilish glint to her smile.

“I think I have an idea,” she says.

Relief is She-Ra getting hauled to her feet, muscles twitching with how quickly Catra jerks her. Any protest on her lips dies with the probing hilt of her sword.

“Oh, that got you to be quiet, huh?” Catra says.

She-Ra worries her lip, then another probe. Hard metal, heated by Catra’s hand, pressing up and inbetween, hiking white pants against her slit. Her head drops against her chest, cheeks colouring with shame. Shame that she let this happen, shame at how her body reacts, hips rolling in search of that sweet pressure.

“Wow, I don’t even have to try and take anything. You’re just so easy, giving me whatever I want,” Catra purrs. 

She-Ra grits her teeth, biting back a moan.

"What's that?" the hilt of the sword, hot from her own warmth, pushes her up by the chin. 

"Fuck you," She-Ra spits. 

"Oh, Adora," Catra caresses her cheek, "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

She-Ra's chin wobbles and she averts her eyes. 

"So selfless, so willing to throw yourself into danger. Sacrifice yourself for your friends. So unwilling to ask for, let alone, take what you want."

Of course Catra would take her being bound as an opportunity to lecture her on this. The genuine ire that flares makes her tug at her bonds. 

But then Catra is clawing her hair back and making a face of mock sympathy (her eyes betray the truth of her words), "But that's okay, Adora. Catra licks a line from her cheek to her ear, "I'm good at guessing what you want."

She-Ra exhales and leans into the touch despite herself. 

"If you want to be of service, then do it for someone who deserves it. Namely, me."

Hand still fisted in She-Ra's hair, she shoves her face between her legs. 

She-Ra keeps her face still, letting Catra mash the tip of her nose against a clothed clit. She keeps her lips firm and unyielding. She does not inhale the heady scent before her. 

Catra growls and jerks She-Ra's head back, delivering a slap across her face. One that takes them both by surprise with its ferocity. Catra pauses, panting and looking down into blazing blue eyes. She-Ra stares back, mouth red and lips soft. They're not sure who surges forward--or if it's just that old hat magnetism. 

But, it is She-Ra sucking Catra's tongue, and it is She-Ra dragging Catra's lip out with her teeth. And, it is She-Ra who whimpers when Catra pushes her face away.

"Now do that again, but where I want it," Catra bears her teeth. There's an awkward moment of juggling--the sword or She-Ra's hair? She drops the hair and adjusts her grip on the sword, flexing her fingers. Her free hand goes to her waistband, shoving down one side, then the other. 

She-Ra bites back a laugh, keeping in character. 

Some furious wiggling later and there's that wonderful bandy legged, freckled body. The different coloured fur between her legs is flattened and wet. The smell wafting off it is delicious. Tang and salt. 

She-Ra does not resist a second time, instead devouring the cunt before her. Catra yelps--yowls even, at the hot tongue skating across her swollen labial lips. 

“Yesss Adora,” those fingers claw at her scalp, praising the work of She-Ra’s lips and tongue.

“Who’s going to save the world with you here working on your knees instead?” Catra croons.

She-Ra snarls, and sucks the full top half of Catra’s cunt into her mouth, scrapes whatever she can with her teeth. The responding groan from Catra is worth it. She may be bound and captive, but she will not lose this.

“Fuck Etheria, you’re so much better at this,” Catra says, “Who knew the legendary saviour She-Ra was such a closeted whore.”

She-Ra moans with her whole body and shoves her tongue inside Catra. The angle is hard. Even on her knees, she’s still a great deal taller than Catra, so she has to hunch lower to lap at her vagina.

As if reading her mind, Catra pulls her away.

“You look so good like this,” she croons, rubbing a thumb over She-Ra’s wet chin, “But I want you ruined.”

Catra stands, stumbling over her shorts and socks --which are still bunched around her knees. She kicks them off, tail lashing, and unhooks She-Ra from the wall.

“Up,” Catra commands.

She-Ra follows the order, sighing in relief when Catra leads her bound arms down to her feet, letting them wrap back around to resting on her chest. Catra then shoves her back against the cot on the wall. She-Ra slumps down on her elbows, body dwarfing the smaller cot. Catra stands between her knees. She takes advantage of the position, dragging her palms up and down white clad muscular thighs.

“Mmm,” her claws catch on the fabric, “I think I might’ve liked the shorts better.” Shred. “Easier access.”

She-Ra gasps and throws her head back as Catra’s claws draw lines through the fabric, leaving red marks on pale legs. Her pants are twice-ruined.

“On second thought, the shorts could be smaller,” Catra grins, cutting even closer to She-Ra’s throbbing centre.

She leans back to admire her work, “Much better.”

“Look at you. You’ve failed everyone. Failed the Rebellion, failed the Horde and yet … I still want you. You’re still the most valuable prisoner on this planet.”

Praise wrapped in rage.

The words crush She-Ra’s chest harder than any blow.

“Catra!”

“Adora?” Catra digs an elbow into She-Ra’s thigh to rest her chin on her hand.

She-Ra struggles, kicking as air and tossing her head.

“What is it, Adora? What do you want? What do you need?”

Hot tears sting She-Ra’s eyes and her face reddens. She hates crying like this, it makes her feel small.

“Do you need me to touch you, Adora? Do you want me to?” Catra teases, but there’s a steadying hand on She-Ra’s hip.

She-Ra can’t stop the tears so she changes her face to defiance, hoping it will express if not quell them.

“Are you gonna do it? Or are you planning on torturing me by talking?!”

“If that’s what The Mighty She-Ra wants,” Catra mocks. She pauses, bending at the waist to frame Adora’s face with her hands (Adora didn’t see where she set the sword down, or when) and gives her a soft kiss. She-Ra sniffles into it.

“Sorry,” she mouths against soft fur.

“Don’t--this is about you, okay, just tap out if you need to.”

“I don’t. I will. I’m just. It’s a lot.”

Catra kisses the scar on She-Ra’s nose, then pulls back, letting the mask slip back on.

It takes three swipes of her claws to shred the last of She-Ra’s pants. All of that pale flesh and golden hair, exposed to the dim light. The slight chill in the air and the cold metal beneath She-Ra’s hot flesh makes her shudder. Well, that, and the size of Catra’s pupils.

“You know, it’s really not fair that you’re so perfect, Adora,” Catra growls, grabbing her by the ponytail, “But I’ll admit, the view is nice.”

Catra crawls off She-Ra’s lap, making sure to flick her tail in her face as she goes, getting on her knees between She-Ra’s spread thighs.

“Look at how wet you are, your lips are all stuck together,” Catra laughs running a finger over the slit. She gathers cum to suck into her mouth, sheathing her claws as she goes.

“Mmm, should send a recording of me fucking you to your silly little Rebellion, don’tcha think?”

She-Ra moans loudly.

“She agrees,” Catra laughs, dropping her mouth to the opening in front of her. She loses herself in the taste and texture. The delicate ridges of the vulva, the slippery trail downwards.

But, this is not what they’re here for. She can eat Adora out all day back at Bright Moon. 

She-Ra’s fists are turning red from the force of her clenching. The manacles make a groan of protest and its circuits begin to short.

“Let go, Adora,” Catra says.

She-Ra exhales and relaxes her hands.

“After all, there’s still the main course.”

Catra retrieves the sword from its resting place next to the cot, and the red claw she’d been using for the blade edge as well.

“It’s only polite for me to lube it up for you,” Catra says, running her tongue over the hilt.

Forget the manacles, it was She-Ra’s brain short circuiting this time. Catra goes from teasing to vulgar in about two seconds, deep throating the hilt while winking at She-Ra. It’s dripping when she’s done (as is She-Ra).

She-Ra holds her breath as the cool metal of the sword drags its way through wet vulva to probe at the heat of her core.

“Look at me.”

She-Ra’s tears have dried, still, she blinks through sticky lashes to meet blown mismatched eyes.

“What do you want, Adora?”

A sob builds in her chest again, “You. Just you.”

“I’m here. With you. What do you want me to do?”

She’s really gonna have to say it.

She-Ra’s voice cracks, “Fuck me. Don’t stop.”

“Good girl. Good soldier,” Catra croons. 

In.

There it is. She-Ra’s cunt stretches slowly over the bulb of the hilt. She pants with it. It’s almost too much, until it isn’t. Then it’s smooth shaft gliding in easily.

“There we go,” Catra says.

She-Ra frowns, tucking her chin onto her chest. The sword is and isn’t a part of her--now more than ever. She could change it into something else. An actual dildo or a whip--but this feeling. The completion of taking it all the way to the base.

Catra doesn’t let her adjust, instead pulling it out to the bulb and slamming it back in. She-Ra yelps.

“This is still my win, Adora.”

“Yes, Catra,” She-Ra pants.

“Oh, look at how obedient you are now.”

Thrust.

The red claw protects the soft flesh of Catra’s hand, but still looks comical holding the blade in place. She-Ra has about five seconds to appreciate the ridiculous appearance before her brain stops caring about anything except the building pressure inside her.

Between thrusts, Catra delivers clawed swats to She-Ra’s thighs, loving the twitches she gets in response.

“Gonna fucking ruin you,” she says, teeth bared in delight.

She-Ra’s responding whimper sounds a lot like a yes.

Catra’s knees protest from how long she’s been crouched, so she stops.

“No! No!” She-Ra wails.

“Easy,” Catra stands to climb She-Ra’s body. Her toe claws snag on the upper half of She-Ra’s uniform until she’s bared above her head.

Catra plops her bottom onto She-Ra’s face and sets about shredding the top half to match the destroyed pants.

“Ah, those tits,” she caresses with a soft palm and a cruel claw, but Catra redirects her attention back to the sword. The sword which has been very slowly slipping out of She-Ra.

“This angle is better,” Catra says, reaching down and thrusting the hilt back in.

She-Ra agrees around her full mouth.

Catra uses both hands this time, doubling in speed and intensity. The resistance grows with each thrust. She-Ra’s cunt doesn’t want to give up the hilt, instead sucking it in and holding it tight.

“Come on, Adora,” Catra grunts.

The tongue moving against her gets sloppy and erratic. Then there’s the shaking of hips and thighs. Catra yelps in surprise and pulls the hilt out as a jet of fluid sprays from the flexing hole.

“Haha! Wow!” she breaks character in her marvel.

She-Ra slumps against the cot, shrinking in size. Catra mews, putting her weight onto her knees to avoid smothering Adora. She kneels gingerly, moving to the side to inspect Adora’s face.

She’s panting, mouth open and wet. Her eyes are closed, but she’s breathing.

Catra gets the manacles off with a hiss and tosses them in the direction of the corner. Then she dabs at Adora’s forehead. Adora mumbles something.

“What?”

Adora’s eyes snap open, and then she’s got Catra pinned beneath her, pausing to wince at the blood returning to her wrists.

“I said, that was awesome,” and then she kisses Catra’s cheek.

“Oh, good.”

Adora’s fingers make an obscene noises as they slip inside Catra. Finishing her off takes a few thrusts. She needs it. To have Catra close, wrapped around her, and under her thumb. Mewling and rolling her hips, welcoming Adora with everything she has.

It’s hard to say how long they lie forehead to forehead.

“I’m glad Scorpia gave us one of her molts without asking too many questions,” Catra flexes her hand.

Adora rolls her shoulders and cracks her neck, feeling a pleasant emptiness in her head, “Yeah, I get the feeling she wouldn’t if she knew what for.”

Catra rubs her palms up and down Adora’s arms, getting the blood flowing again.

“You okay?” she asks.

Adora nods. Catra combs through her hair and continues her finger journey across Adora’s face and ears.

“You took it like a champ,” she says.

Adora winces, “Yeah, I mean, technically, it’s a part of me, but I’ll still be walking funny.”

“Just think, all these times I tried to take down She-Ra, what I really needed to do was fuck you brainless.”

“Well, yeah,” Adora looks up at her like, ‘duh’. Then looks past Catra, “Is this the cell where you kept Shadow Weaver?”

Catra shudders, “Definitely not. I think we kept Bow in this one. I wouldn’t be able to--it’d be weird--I still feel like she’s still watching us enough already.”

Adora nods, groans, and stands, walking to the corner to retrieve the bedroll they brought to share. Catra thinks she probably needs to moment of space as well, so stretches her limbs, kicking Adora’s shin gently as she returns.

“I wonder if it’ll ever go away,” Adora muses sleepily, flopping onto Catra.

Catra shrugs against her. Then retreats a little shyly, “It got kind of intense there. Are you sure you’re good?”

Adora wipes her face with her wrist, “Yeah. Thanks for checking in. It’s--I should--It’s what I need. You know, to hear and feel.”

“Yeah,” Catra strokes the wrist, “Do you need anything else?”

“Like I said, just you,” Adora winces as she rotates her arms, “Okay. You and a hot bath when we get back.”

Catra nods, tucking her chin into Adora’s chest, tail stroking circles on Adora’s leg.

“Hm, Melog says there’s some hot water on the first floor,” she says.

“Good, you can carry me there after a nap then.”

“If you wanted to be carried, you would’ve brought Swift Wind,” Catra teases. Adora winces at the thought at the thought.

They fall into a comfy silence between wakefulness and sleep, Adora stroking Catra’s ears.

“You’re next,” she mumbles.

“Yeah, we can do mine tomorrow. I’m not really in the right mind for it.”

“Doesn’t have to be t’mor’w, c’n be wh’n’vr,” Adora dozes off.

* * *

There’s little purchase on the metal flooring, but that doesn’t stop the sparks flying from where her claws dig in. A muscular hand--twice the size of her face-- wraps around Catra’s tail. She cries out, hauled backwards like she weighs nothing. She hisses and spits, struggling against her much bigger assailant. 

There’s always an element of danger to poking the bear, and she supposes these are the consequences. One wide hand holding her ass in place while the fingers on the other play with her clothed slit. It feels good, but she’s not done with the chase yet, so she twists and aims a kick at a stony face.

She-Ra’s eyes blaze, and in a move, she slams Catra backwards. Catra aims another kick, this time hitting the gut and sending She-Ra backwards. Catra’s back up on her feet, sprinting toward the exit.

She-Ra slams into her, this solid wall of muscle. Catra’s ears ring as her back hits the wall. There’s a moment of panic on She-Ra’s face at how Catra’s body ragdolls. The arm that pins her to the wall is firm but too gentle. Adora’s eyes search hers.

“Gonna have to do better than that,” Catra smirks.

(I’m okay, don’t stop.)

The arm presses harder. Catra claws at it with free hands, feet scrabbling against She-Ra’s abdomen. She-Ra grunts and shoves her knee between Catra’s legs, making her yelp. With her free hand she gathers Catra’s wrists and pins them above her head. Catra’s all stretched out against the wall, nipples painfully hard and bleeding through her shirt. She-Ra smirks, annoyingly arrogant at the picture she’s made. She leans in, inhaling deeply into Catra’s neck. She-Ra sucks a hungry mark into Catra’s jaw, making her eyes flutter closed.

“See, Catra? Everything’s so much better when you just,” nip, “let,” bite, “me,” suck, “win.”

Catra struggles, but She-Ra’s grip is like iron. Instead, she roars her irritation.

She-Ra laughs, muting Catra’s cries with a sloppy kiss.

One that Catra can’t help but melt into. Kissing Adora is its own reward--outside of any struggle between them.

Then, there’s that thigh. Hard and hot and thick enough to strain Catra’s hips with the width of it parting her legs. The muscle flexes against her. Catra’s clit flexes in response. She tries to hide her eagerness, but the kiss she distracts Adora with is probably giving the opposite message. The knee moves higher, providing even closer access to that sweet friction. Catra’s hips roll against it.

She-Ra pulls back with a smile, looking down between them.

“Shut up. It’s just instinct. Not because I like you,” Catra says.

She-Ra just laughs and stretches Catra higher by the wrists. Catra cries out, first in surprise, then in pleasure as teeth close around one of her nipples. Tongue, spit, and fabric all work together to make a texture and sensation that is too much and not enough at the same time.

“Adora!” she cries out.

Glowing blue eyes glance up at her, lazily lidded and confident. She winks before biting down. Catra arches against her mouth.

“Aren’t you going to take your prize?” Catra manages to wheeze out.

There’s some shame to the request. She’s so wet she can’t stand it. Being lowered to floor is an even bigger embarrassment because she collapses into She-Ra’s arms.

“Hey Catra,” she sing-songs.

“Shut up.”

She-Ra slips a hand between Catra’s legs again, pulling her pussy lips apart then slipping back to grope her ass. The trail goes lower, pulling at the gap between her shorts and her thighs.

“Tell me, did you start wearing these just to drive me crazy?” She-Ra’s voice is scary deep. A hefty finger slips beneath the fabric and inches upwards.

Their height different is even more pronounced like this, dwarfing Catra. She hates how meek and small she looks in comparison, especially when she lowers her eyes and nods.

“I figured--” that finger brushes her labia and she exhales, “If you were gonna be running around looking like this,” she grabs the meat of She-Ra’s shoulders. They feel like warm steel beneath her hands and barely yield to her squeeze. “I had to get you back somehow.”

A hot mouth lowers to her ears, “Do you know how many times I went to bed thinking about getting my hands beneath this shorts.”

Catra matches She-Ra’s pant against the column of her throat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” her tail brushes She-Ra’s inner thigh.

She yelps as She-Ra both spins and pins her, right to the floor. A clothed groin grinds against her ass and Catra moans on the exhale. In her peripheral vision she sees the telltale glow of the sword changing shape.

“Stay,” She-Ra grips Catra’s spine with a firm hand and then her warmth is gone. Stay, yes, but stay put? No. Instead, she looks over her shoulder to see white pants being shucked off in one go, and the size she chose for the dildo. Woof. There’s a bulbed end at the base. She-Ra catches her watching and licks her teeth as she reaches down between golden curls and slips the bulbed end in. Her face tightens with the adjustment, fitting it inside herself. Then it’s in and bobbing in front of her groin. Catra feels her jaw drop.

“If only I’d perfected this little trick during some of our other fights,” She-Ra says.

(Kind of the point of this fantasy.)

Catra’s arms get tired--that’s how out of Horde shape she is-- so she lowers to her elbows, flicking her tail in invitation. An invitation She-Ra takes.

“You’re not gonna need these,” that deep voice says, then before Catra can protest, strong fingers are ripping the seam from tail to cunt open, letting the shorts sag. Catra’s cunt gets expose to the air for a hot second before a the ridged head of She-Ra’s dildo is acquainting itself with her wetness.

“If you wanted gentle you wouldn’t have kicked me in the face,” She-Ra growls in her ear before thrusting in (and despite that threat, she glides the cock in with practiced ease). The stretch is welcome after all that teasing. Catra’s forehead hits the ground and she groans low and long.

From behind her, She-Ra admires the view. Catra, sprawled out on all fours, tail straight up. The cock (silver and gold) slips in and out of a hungry slit. She-Ra pets her, pushing her shirt up to stroke soft stripes and hair. She pushes until the shirt gets irritatingly snagged under Catra’s arms, and they pause for her to take it off. Thumbs up. Then she drags her palm back down to grab and wind around Catra’s tail. Catra yowls, shoving her hips back against She-Ra’s waist.

It's humiliating and it's so good. Face pressed against the steel floor, ass up, tail wrapped around a muscular hand. The wet slap of She-Ra fucking the shit out of her. Catra arches her back further, pushing her bare breasts against the rapidly heating floor. 

"You’re gonna take every inch I give you like a good kitty," She-Ra growls in her ear. 

Catra moans her affirmative. 

"I love it when you obey."

Catra's hair rises at that, but she can't disagree with Adora. Selfish defiance was her thrice downfall. Now she recognizes defiance for what it is: a tool that belongs in a box alongside empathy, compromise, and submission. Because submission is what gets her fucked like this (even if it is the defiance that spices the encounter). She-Ra bottoms out, and makes a grunt of irritation as she does. She pulls Catra's tail back, wrapping it around her waist instead of her fist. It barely fits around the wall of muscle Catra likes the claw and grind against. Next thing Catra feels is the the wet girth re-entering her. One massive hand goes to her hair, petting it with scratchy fingertips the way Adora likes to. The other, probes at Catra's gasping mouth. She tastes herself mixed with Adora and sucks the fingers in gladly.

The force and speed that follow make her sob and chew at the digit fucking her mouth. Her hips can't keep up with Adora's speed, so she stops trying, instead falling forward to lie there and take it. She-Ra adjusts again, this time wrapping her other arm around Catra's neck and collarbone. She almost laughs. Adora's used the same choke hold on her for years. 

(Fuuuck.)

Adora could have been using this choke hold like this for years. 

Catra yelps, both surprised, and unsurprised that the thought is what makes her cum. She lets her hips twitch. She-Ra speeds up at her release, fucking her roughly through the waves of one orgasm into another. It's on crest four that she taps out. She-Ra rolls off of her as if electrocuted. The dildo makes a wet slap against her thigh as they lay side by side on the floor. 

"Fuck. Adora. What the fuck. Fuck," Catra manages to pant. 

"Catra! Are you okay? Was it too much?" Adora's eyes are shiny and she's up on her elbows, hovering over Catra like a worried puppy. 

Catra pats her face, "I'm good. You're good. That was. Hah. That was good."

Her legs feel like mush. 

Adora's panic subsides, replaced by that irritating smugness. 

"Oh yeah? I was good? Did I rock your world or what?"

Catra's patting turns to a shove. Adora licks the offending palm. 

"Hey! That's my move!" Catra whines. 

Adora licks her face instead, "Mmm, cat hair."

"Fuck you."

"Well, if you insist," Adora rolls back onto her and Catra grunts in false effort. They lie there like that, Catra throwing a leg around Adora's hip. 

"I was starting to black out there and you know what I was thinking?" Catra walks her fingers up Adora's neck. 

"You were thinking that you should tap out because we're trying to be safe about this?" Adora replies. 

"Hm, no. I was so blind when I thought the best way to die was killing the world with you in it--"

"Thanks."

"Now I know the best way to die is with your dick in me and your hand around me throat."

"Catra!"

"I mean it, Adora. If I start to go before you do. Choke fuck me out of this life."

"I'm not gonna kill you while we're having sex!"

"Fine. Deny the last wishes of your dying wife!" Catra jokes. 

There's a silence in response to that, and her brain plays catch up to what she just said. What she just joked about.  _ Oh.  _ Catra keeps her eyes screwed tightly shut. She doesn't want to see the set of Adora's jaw. She doesn't want to face the rejection. 

How could she ever be so stupid? Marriage is for good people like Spinerella and Netossa. Not some horde brat like her. 

"Catra," Adora's voice wobbles. 

She squints her eyes open just a little to see blue eyes filled with sparkly tears and that dumb expression on Adora's face. 

"Did you just call me your wife?"

Catra blushes, covering one eye with her palm, "I meant like, hypothetical future wife in this scenario where I'm dying."

Adora's lower lip juts out. 

"I mean, it's not like I like you or anything," Catra falls back on that old joke to save face. 

"I want you to be my hypothetical future wife too! But like, present."

"Your hypothetical present wife?"

"Yeah."

"Well, shit. Guess we should get married then," Catra says lightly to betray her pounding heart. 

"Yeah. Let's get married," Adora says. 

**Author's Note:**

> There will be no wedding follow up fic. Please tell me what you think about the fic itself. I love hearing feedback. Stay safe, kids. Cheers.


End file.
